Whispers in the Woods (Firemountain Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  The shadows were growing long in the late November weather. Dinah, not wanting to be outside at night, hurried down the street.

  Anna stood in the center of the street. She trembled at Dinah’s approach. “This is for you.” The girl held out a daisy chain.

  Dinah took the chain. Her second sight didn’t reveal anything special. “Thank you. What is this for?”

  “It will protect you.” The girl tensed, ready to bolt.

  Dinah slipped the circle of flowers around her neck. The smell of fresh-cut flowers, the leafy green scent, filled the air. The daisies were bright yellow. “Thank you. I will wear this until the blossoms fade, then I’ll preserve it.”

  Anna looked over her shoulder at the house. “You must come to see me. I’m scared, my mommy is changed. She’s not the same. She now refuses to leave. The ghosts are more restless.”

  “I think I saw one of them. A woman with the back of her head caved in.”

  “That is Ellen. She’s not the mean one. She watches over me and tries to protect me. But she is weak and he is getting stronger.”

  Long shadows stretched over the yard. Anna looked at Dinah and sprinted toward the house. “Save my mom if you can,” she called and slammed the door shut after her.

  ***

  That night Dinah had a dream. She tossed and turned, the sheets wrapping around her sweat-soaked body. She stood on the street corner in front of the Futhark Institute. From around her, out of the woods that surrounded the city, a voice whispered. It slid through the streets and crawled over the sleeping residents. Nsst thss per ussa. The patients of the hospital screamed and several of them ran out of the front doors. The church bells were not ringing and the sound of the chanting grew louder. From the black night, red glowing eyes watched, studying the city.

  Figures moved through the streets, whispering the chant. They had on black hooded robes that concealed their faces. They stood on the stoops of houses and marked them with a red viscous liquid. From the houses came the women and children. They walked into the streets, their faces blank and eyes unseeing.

  Suddenly, Dinah was at the park, and the children made their way to the park, following the black-robed figures. She followed them into the park and the robed figures stretched the kids out on the altar. They made small cuts that bled black shadows. A laugh rolled out of the night and crashed around the city. It echoed through her mind, ancient and evil, when suddenly the clear sound of a church bell ringing Nocturnes, calling the sisters to prayer, echoed through the night.

  With a shriek the shadows melted into the night, and the voice fell silent. All around the street, women and children were standing puzzled as if awakened from a dream. The black-robed figures fled. One of them stopped before Dinah, and she could see his face in the depths of his hood. It was tattooed and scarred; self-mutilation. A smile twitched on his lips. “The cult of Gleebelix will summon its master and nothing you can do will stop it.” He ran off into the darkness and Dinah awoke with a start to the sound of church bells ringing throughout the night.

  Her heart pounding, Dinah went to the window and looked out over the street. Anna stood there looking at her, before she turned and slowly made her way back to her own home. Dinah crawled back into bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin. Finally, sleep took her again, and she drifted off into dreamless slumber.

  Chapter 3

  The Senate, the hottest night club in Olympia, was rocking with a decent cover band. Jake Willis entered the scene. Flashing lights and loud music pulsed through him.

  He sidled up to a girl sitting at the bar. “What are you drinking?” he asked, flashing his million dollar smile.

  The woman turned to him. “Sour apple martinis.”

  Jake held up two fingers. “I’m Jake.”

  The woman smiled, flashing perfect teeth. A tattoo of a snake graced her long slender arm. “Esmae.”

  “Care to dance?” He offered his hand.

  They went out to the dancefloor. The music pulsed through him. He whirled around; she shoved her butt into his crotch and wriggled in a hip-hop move.

  After the number, they returned to the bar and retrieved their drinks, then made their way to one of the vacant tables. He followed Esmae’s flaming hair to the table. A pretty blonde was at the table, but alone. “Do you mind if we share the table?” Jake asked.

  The blonde smiled and waved for them to take a seat. “I’m Shauna.”

  “Jake, and this is Esmae. If you ladies will excuse me, I need to use the little boys’ room.” He took a sip of his drink and wove through the crowds.

  Could I be so lucky, he thought.

  He returned and the two girls were deep in conversation.

  “Shauna goes to Evergreen.” Esmae drank her green drink.

  Jake took a sip of the martini. He held out the drink and studied it. “Not bad.”

  The three of them danced, Jake in the middle getting the bump and grind from both girls.

  Esmae pushed some pills into Jake’s hand. “These will take you to places you have only dreamed of,” she whispered in his ear.

  After a couple of drinks the music was vivid. I must be drunk, Jake thought as he saw electric blue notes floating by.

  Final call went out and the three of them stumbled back to his hotel.

  The girls kissed, then collapsed on the bed with Jake. They energetically shared him. He drifted off to sleep at four AM with the thought in his mind: I need to go to Firemountain tomorrow.

  ***

  Jake pushed the accelerator down on the black sapphire pearl Lexus convertible and sped out of the curve on the mountain road. The sporty car hugged the corner nicely and Jake's stomach did a little jump at the maneuver. He upshifted and the car raced along the Chehalis highway. Shauna threw back her head and laughed at the sensation. In the back seat Esmae howled with delight as they zipped through the twists and turns. He remembered that Esmae worked at a quarry outside of Chehalis and Shauna was an undergrad student at Evergreen State College, but the rest of the night was a blur. He grinned as Shauna moved her hand along his thigh, closer to his crotch.

  He shook his head and wind rushed through his sandy brown hair. Prada sunglasses covered his eyes from the bright sunshine. He remembered going to his uncle's attorney's office in Olympia for the reading of the will. Today he had to move. The caveat in his uncle's will stated he had to live in Firemountain for ten years to fully inherit everything.

  They zipped along in his new Lexus convertible, and he enjoyed the way the car handled the curves. “I gotta go pee,” Esmae said. He rounded a curve and saw Lasher's Service Station and Mini Mart on the left.

  He pulled in next to the old pumps. Gas was nearly twenty cents a gallon more than in Olympia. I guess I should fill up while I have the chance. A layer of motor grease coated the windows and one pane had cardboard duct-taped to the frame. The three aisles had dingy candy bars, over-the-counter pharmaceuticals, oil, gas cans, funnels and antifreeze. Desiccated hot dogs rotated slowly under the heat lamp of the ancient hot dog cooker. Stale buns lay forgotten in the steamer as Jake lifted the lid. His stomach turned at the sight. He headed for the cooler at the back of the store, grabbed a couple of bottles of water, and made his way to the counter.

  The woman behind the counter stared at him, and started to ring him up. Her dirty hair hung limply from a messy ponytail. Pallid skin peeked through worn holes in her flowered t-shirt. She reeked of sweat and an untreated yeast infection. A purple bruise turning yellow on the edges covered her left cheek, and her right eye was swollen shut. A rim of dry blood hung from thin lashes.

  “Fill her up,” he said, putting the bottles of water on the counter.

  “Regular or premium?” she slurred, spittle spraying from her misshapen mouth. Three teeth were missing and her jaw clicked.

  “Premium,” he said, tossing a twenty on the counter.

  A man with missing front teeth stared at him from the garage through a grime-smeared window. A grease-stained Mariner
s baseball cap was pushed back on his head. Short, greasy hair stood out at erratic angles. He wiped hands on dirty coveralls, and spat out an amber stream from the cud he was chewing.

  Jake left the store to start pumping gas. Esmae and Shauna studied the candy display, Diet Cokes clutched to their bodies as they bent over faded candy wrappers.

  He leaned against the convertible as the gas pumped. Leaves rustled from trees that pressed close to the station. Is something in there? He moved closer to investigate. He could smell compost from the leafy depths but did not see anything.

  “Nssa oldhea forthma kum,” something whispered to him from someplace hidden. He barely heard the jingle of the gas station bells. He took a step closer to the woods.

  “Nssa oldhea forthma kum,” the voice whispered again. It didn't sound human or sane, but made unspoken promises of greatness. The words, like a fading dream, were electric blue and crackling lightning. He peered deeper into the woods.

  Behind Jake the gas pump thunked and clicked off, but he ignored it, entranced by the voice echoing softly through the trees. He crept towards the woods. He eyes slid out of focus as he listened for that voice. “Nssa oldhea forthma kum,” it called to him again.

  What's wrong with me? He shook his head and clapped his hands over his ears. Slapping himself, he made his way back to his car.

  The voice gave a malevolent chuckle as he turned his back on the woods. He took the nozzle out of the gas tank and slid it back into the pump.

  A scream rang out from the gas station, and he whirled around to investigate. A robed figure clutched Esmae by the neck. A curved blade pressed against her flesh and a trickle of blood ran slowly down her neck into the little indent at its base. Shauna lay crumpled on the floor in a pool of blood. People in black robes poured from the woods and the garage. Some wielded knives while others brandished handguns. Jake’s breath came in quick gasps as his gaze darted about, trying to find a way to save Esmae.

  Fuck, there’s too many of them. He jumped over the door and fumbled for his keys. He found the key and jammed it into the ignition. When the car roared to life, he accelerated in a spray of gravel.

  One big guy in richly decorated robes chased him onto the highway. The hood flew off his face from the breeze and Jake saw a chevron tattoo on his cheek and scars on his forehead and around his eyes. The man laughed as he licked blood off his knife.

  Jake reached for his cellphone to dial 911 as soon as he rounded a curve. The phone was dead. He looked at the screen; there were no bars. Of course, this is Firemountain. There’s no cell service up here. I hope Esmae is still alive. He sped down the road to the sheriff’s office in the small city up ahead.

  Jake pulled into the blacktop parking lot next to the mid-twentieth-century red-brick building. Over the building the US and Washington State flags flew. Black and white Crown Victoria squad cars stood lined up along the side of the station. Jake breathed in and gulped another mouthful of water.

  “Howdy Jake.” The desk sergeant, Ted McMurphy, looked up when Jake entered the lobby. “Glad to see you finally made it up here.”

  Jake leaned against the counter, gripping it to keep himself from tumbling over as his head spun. “Is the sheriff in?”

  “Yeah sure. Is this important?”

  Jakes gripped the counter even tighter and nodded. “I… I saw someone get killed out at Lasher’s Station.”

  The desk sergeant stared at him. Jake squirmed under his gaze and clutched the counter even tighter, ignoring the edges digging into his finger. The sergeant studied him a bit longer. He motioned Jake to sit in the lobby, took a sip of his coffee, and picked up the phone.

  “Sheriff, Mr. Willis is here,” the sergeant said. “Yes, he says someone’s been killed out at Lasher’s Station… No, he says someone got killed.” The sergeant scribbled a note on his blotter. “Yes ma’am… I’ll send him in.” He put down the phone. “The sheriff says to go on back.” The sergeant buzzed Jake through.

  The squad room hummed with activity. Phones rang and officers hurried about filling out reports and taking statements perched in various boxes. A young man looked up from filing. His black hair was slicked back, and he stared at Jake with black eyes. He wore a small silver cross as a tie tack.

  “Well Jake,” a woman said, from the sheriff’s office door. “You just get into town and already you’re in trouble. Felix, could you please bring us some coffee?”

  Jake shook her hand, while the young man with black hair put down his filing and headed for the break room. “Sheriff Hillsborough. Congratulations on your new position.”

  He accompanied her into the office. Scratched file boxes lined the wall. A brass nameplate was etched with the name Sheriff Laya Hillsborough, and rested on a cluttered desk. Laya was tall enough that she could look him in the eye, and her light brown hair was cropped into a pageboy that hung to just below her chin. Her thumb toyed with a white gold wedding band as she leaned back in her chair.

  A man in an out of date business suit followed them into the office.

  “Jake, I want you to meet Dave Dobrowski. He is our detective.”

  Jake looked the man up and down. Dave had broad shoulders, his thick arms were covered with dark brown hair, and he had a receding hairline. He smelled of Aqua Velva aftershave. Dave studied Jake with piercing coffee-colored eyes.

  “Pleased to meet you.” Jake shook his hand, wincing as the detective gripped it.

  “Well?” The sheriff leaned back in her chair.

  Jake paced the office, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “I saw a murder at Lasher’s Station.”

  Felix knocked on the door and entered the office to hand Jake a cup of coffee in a heavy mug. Jake savored the earthy scent of the coffee. He took a sip and luxuriated in the fresh ground flavor. The warmth of the coffee spread thorough him as he got Laya caught up on what happened.

  Dave scribbled notes on a yellow legal pad. “Where did you meet these girls?”

  “That’s the funny thing about it.” Jake took another sip. “I finished signing the papers, and I went out to get a drink. I met them at a bar and we hit it off.” He leaned forward and parked the cup on the corner of the cluttered desk. “I took some pills, and I really don’t remember much of anything until I woke up the next morning in bed with them. They were quite…”—he felt blood rush to his face “…affectionate.”

  Laya rolled her eyes at him. They had grown up together when Jake came to Firemountain during the summer. They had fished all the local lakes and rivers. She’d eventually returned to Firemountain with her husband to be the sheriff. Jake had run into her a few times in Seattle where she had been enrolled in the police academy and worked as a patrol officer for five years.

  She reached for the phone and pushed a number. “Felix, could you come in here please?” Laya played with a rubber band while she studied her notes. “Enter,” she said when Felix knocked on the door.

  Felix stood at attention next to the door. “Tell Felix what happened, especially about hearing the chant.”

  Jake rehashed the story. Felix grew pale during the part about the chant and fingered his cross.

  The Sherriff continued. “I want you to go to Lasher’s. Take Mahogny and Declan to investigate. I want a full report. Also, impound Mr. Willis’s car while forensics goes over it.”

  Dave frowned. “Don’t you know about Lasher’s Station?”

  “What about it?” Jake clutched his mug tighter.

  “It closed two years ago.” The big detective stood over Jake.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Laya made a cat’s cradle with her rubber band. “He’s right. The station couldn’t be open.

  Jake set down his cup. “Could you please call the house? Garrett will come and get me. I need to process this.”

  For the next hour Jake answered their questions and made a statement. The deputies called back to say they hadn’t found anything, not even blood, and that the station was closed when they got th
ere. Laya passed this on to Jake.

  “But… it happened,” he said. “I wouldn’t make it up.”

  “I believe you,” Laya said, putting down her pen. “We’ve had a bunch of strange things happen around here lately. Last night there was a breakout from the psychiatric hospital. One of the most dangerous inmates in LOU hasn’t been recovered yet. Apparently members of the staff opened it up.”

  Jake swallowed and shifted in his chair. LOU was the legal offenders unit, and it housed the really dangerous patients, including the famous serial killer Benjamin Walkin, the Tree-Top Killer. A diagnosed psychopath, he’d earned the name by dismembering his victims with a machete and scattering their limbs on top of trees.

  Laya looked at Jake. “Yes, we alerted the town and told everyone to keep their doors locked. They’re to notify the police right away if they see any of the patients from the hospital.” Laya smiled. “We’ve got a new reporter named Dinah Steele. She arrived yesterday, and has already met Richard McPherson.”

  Jake looked at the sheriff. “She’s met a founder already?”

  Laya nodded. “Apparently he told her to look into your uncle’s death and find out more about you. I think it’s all tied together. I believe Caedon was working on something. You should work with Dinah; maybe fresh eyes will see the answers that I’m missing.”

  There was a knock on the door and Felix entered. He held up a snack bag with several white pills in it. “We found this in the back seat,” he said, holding the bag out to the sheriff.

  Laya took the bag and looked at the pills. “What are these?”

  “I think they were what I took last night. It’s probably ecstasy,” Jake said.

  She handed them back to Felix. “Get them tested,” she ordered. “I’m not going to press charges for the pills since I know you, and though you did some stupid things last night, you weren’t thinking clearly. Your beer was probably drugged. Go home and get some rest. Dinah should be coming by shortly.”